The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1887-12-23
THE WHITE DEER.
christmas story.
AZ PAuL PAsTNoR.


the snow, shivered in the morning air.
and the withered leaves that had been
heaped here and there in hollows and
corners rustled and complained for
more of heavens downy blankets,
0ld5Tom Campbell was stirring early.
He had made up his mind that if the
weather held right, he would try for a
little veuison for the Christmas feast.
The days had passed so swiftly that
he hardly realized how near the hOli-
day was until it was close at hand.
There was but one day left-but it
was a glorious day for deer! Snow
jHsttwo days old-a mere film Of it in
the woods, not enough to craunCh be-
meath the feet or impede the hunters
progress, and yet quite enough to
track the wary game; q still day-the
hunters scent would not travel far; q
day neither too cold nOr too warm,
too dry nor too damp; in short, a
most perfect day for still hunting the
lOrdIy buck and the fat doe, in the
mountains back OF the village.
There were two places in the round
world that old Tom could call
home; one his own bit Of a cabin on
the hillside, which he had built with
his unaided hands forty years
ago when the country was new,
and the other the pretty cot.
tage of his youngest daugh.
ter's husband, in the village. 1t vas
for the latter and merrler home that
the old man wished to secure the un-
expected delicacy, a juicy bit OF deer's
steak, to make the children smack
their lips and wonder and tease for
stories Of the olden time. Grandpa
and Grandma had been invited to
leave their little, quiet cabin on the
hillside and spend all the holiday week
with the children, and OF course they
were overjoyed at the thought of the
Jolly times they were to have. 1t was
even better than living with the noisy
brood all the year, as they might have
done had they chosen, for now there
was always something to be looked
forward to-, every holiday sea-
son with ever new and
fresh delight; and then, too,
Grandfather and Grandmother Camp.
bell, Ike all old people, enjoyed
comfortable quiet, except upon very
extraordinary occasions, when they
felt called upon to renew their youth.
The late winter sun had hardly
peeped above the hills when old Tom,
fortified Within-thanksto Name Camp
belts loving care, with steamIng cot
fee, golden corn cake and potatoes,
fried only as our grandmothers can
fry them, started on his days hunt
In the woods. His rihe-arelic Of ear
lier days, but stillserYiceable and true
to its aim-had been carefully cleaned,
and still more carefully loaded, so
that tie supreme moment it might
not fail TO do its work. Looking
back just as he was entering the
woods at the top OF the slope, Tom
saw the smoke curling up from the
village chimneys, and heard the
rumbling of wheels and the far.of
sounds which betokened the
Weakening Of q new days lite. He
could see the very cottage where the
loved ones were, perhaps Just rubbing
their drowsy eyes with their dimpled
fists, and wondering whether the I'M
Wonted beating of their hearts meant
Christmas Day or only the day be-
fore. With a last fond look he plung-
ed into the woods, more eager than
ever to add to his cherished budget OF
Christmas gifts a contribution to the
Christmas least.
He had tramped nearly all the
morning. and was beginning to get
both hungry and tired, when sudden
iy he came upon the welLknown prints
OF deer's feet IN the tell-tale snow. He
bent down and examined them, They
were quite fresh; the deer could not
have passed more than an hour be-
fore. In an instant old Tom was all
alert. Throwing his rife from his
shoulder s the hollow OF
his left Q arm, he began
cautiously following the trail, keeping
q careful lookout ahead, in readiness
to fire at the stirring Of q cover or tho
whisk OF aEbranch. Like all old deer
hunters. he knew the shy and suspi-
cicus nature of his game, and that
unless he kept himself constantly on
the alert, the single chance no might
hope for IN a days stalking would be
irretrievably lost,
The woods were as still as death, as
the old man crept along through the
dusky aisles of the trees. The mid
winter sleep OF nature seemed to have
descended upon all things and theirs
was an atmosphere almost Of the IN
real and supernatural brooding upon
the forest. No sound OF bird or SOUR
rel, no rustic OF growing things. leaf or
nodding fern, no cawing OF crows, or
ali answer lot hidden hoot-owE from
the depth ofthe covert-po soundevep
Of the hunter Feet, mufied IN the soft
and silent snow, Old Tom could not
help feeling tn some extent the uncan
Nv lnanence 81 his surroundings ~
one even saw ghosts ID the daytime, X
he unused. now would be the time
and this the place. What il the spirit
OF some Old Indian or the ghost oi
Some dusk maiden ofthe forest should
rise up is my path Hall laughiag to
himself at afseh fancies. the old man
bent his eyes keenly upon the
windine track of tie deer and the
thick c0Verts before him. hungry rs
he WAS. he did not venture 70 stop
a0a take fno frozen lunch gyom his